


Acorns

by GremlinSR



Category: Emperor's New Groove (2000)
Genre: Acorns as Weapons, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Revenge, Squirrels make good bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GremlinSR/pseuds/GremlinSR
Summary: It's not easy to deal with rejection after an overture of friendship. Good thing Floopy's already got a best friend to remind him that he's not alone.Or: The vengeance of a squirrel is subtle yet effective.





	Acorns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaida171](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaida171/gifts).



> Got the idea for this little gem of a drabble from [Kaida171](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaida171/pseuds/kaida171) after a very serious and not silly at all comment thread.
> 
> You can read where the inspiration happened [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/159348903) This takes place right after the scene in the forest where Yzma is mean to a squirrel. You can see that [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1MNllfr6wVY).
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, hope you speak squirrel and love the power of friendship.

The two squirrels watched the nice large man and his angry bossy partner as they left the clearing. The woman was covered in mud and the man had paused to frantically write down something in his notebook when they passed a bright red bird.

 

“Squeak squeakity squeaken,” Floopy said, shaking his head and looking down at the acorn that the woman had rejected so viciously, tail drooping.

 

His best friend Soft Paw patted his shoulder. “Squeak squeaku squeakity squeakly,” he said, and Floopy sighed.

 

“Squeaky squeaken squeakity. Squeak squeakity squeak squeakly squeak.”

 

Soft Paw had never seen Floopy look so sad, and he hated it. He had to do something, but what? Then it hit him - the perfect way to lift Floopy’s spirits!

 

“Squeak squeak?”

 

Floopy narrowed his eyes, whiskers twitching in thought, before he gave a firm nod. “Squeak!”

 

As one, they dashed across branches, leaping and twisting and digging their little paws into the bark. After a few minutes they caught up with the two travelers and slowed their pace so that they were trailing them from a safe distance.

 

“Kronk! Where is my spring water? And will you _stop talking to the wildlife?”_

 

Kronk sighed. “Yes, Yzma,” he said, and reached into his backpack to pull out a bottle of water and hand it up to the angry woman in the purple litter.

 

“Squeaker,” Floopy said, flipping his tail derisively.

 

“Squeak squeak squeaky,” Soft Paw said, nodding his agreement.

 

“Now hurry. We have to catch up to that llama!”

 

The squirrels followed the two from a safe distance until they stopped for the night. Floopy glared at the callous acorn hating woman while Kronk went to gather firewood and she lathered lotions onto her skin and complained about the muggy air.

 

His attention was pulled away from her when Soft Paw nudged him and held up an acorn, wiggling his whiskers. He then turned, pulled back the paw holding the acorn, and threw the nut as hard as he could. It bounced off the side of Yzma’s head and she startled, looking around and rubbing at the spot that the acorn had hit.

 

Little bodies trembling in laughter, they darted behind the trunk of the tree. After a minute they peeked around it, just in time for Yzma to shrug and go back to complaining.

 

This time it was Floopy who threw the acorn. It hit her shoulder, and he and Soft Paw dashed back behind the tree as she made an enraged noise.

 

“Kronk! Somebody is _throwing things at me!”_

 

The man paused in his fussing over the firepit he was setting up and shot her a doubtful look. “Uh, Yzma, I don’t think there’s anybody else out here.”

 

Soft Paw waited until he looked back down to chuck the next acorn. Yzma screeched when it knocked the lotion bottle out of her hand and into the mud. Floopy high fived him.

 

“Squeaker squeakity squeakarootle,” he praised, and Soft Paw preened.

 

They continued to toss sticks and acorns at Yzma when Kronk was turned away or distracted throughout the evening. By the time the sun set she was a heaving, yelling, hysterical mess.

 

Kronk kept obediently trying to locate the ‘culprits,’ but they were nowhere to be found. He actually seemed to be concerned about Yzma’s state of mind, and finally had to gently coax her into the tent.

 

“Squeakity squeaken squeaker squeak,” Soft Paw said, and Floopy fell over into high pitched laughter as the woman disappeared behind the canvas flaps.

 

When he’d gotten ahold of himself he sat up and patted Soft Paw on the shoulder.

 

“Squeaker squeak squeaken squeaka squeaken,” he said seriously.

 

Soft Paw shrugged and wrapped his tail around his legs bashfully.

 

“Squeakity,” he replied simply.

 

Floopy didn’t need him to elaborate. Soft Paw really was the greatest friend a squirrel could ask for.


End file.
